


Not a Knife

by Ray_Writes



Category: Sense8 (TV)
Genre: M/M, Pre-Episode: s02e09 What Family Actually Means
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-28 00:00:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17171957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ray_Writes/pseuds/Ray_Writes
Summary: Hernando tries to be an understanding boyfriend.





	Not a Knife

**Author's Note:**

  * For [colorofmymind](https://archiveofourown.org/users/colorofmymind/gifts).



> My first time writing for this particular pairing actually ended up being a good bit of fun. This was another sentence prompt from Manders, so hopefully people enjoy it!

Hernando’s heart went out to his boyfriend, it really did. But sometimes he just couldn’t account for just how  _ odd _ he could be. Especially lately.

There had been the fight with Joaquin, which he had not witnessed, but which Dani had described to him in vivid detail. There had also been his picking of the lock to their old apartment, which he supposed was something he could have picked up from one of his films.

This, though, this was classic Lito.

He approached the other man with caution where he sat on the floor with his back to the refrigerator, still in the same pajamas he’d been wearing for the last few days.

“Lito...what are you doing?”

His boyfriend looked up, pout in full effect. “I’m trying to spread my jam with a fork because I lost control of my life.”

Hernando spotted the source of the problem. A jam-smeared knife lay on the floor not two feet from where Lito had parked himself. It was fairly obvious it had been dropped and that somewhere between reaching for another utensil and getting down to pick up the dropped one, something in Lito had broken.

“Well,” said Hernando as he leaned over to pick up the knife. “I’m sure it will all work out one way or the other. A fork may not be the usual choice for this sort of task, but it can accomplish it the same as a knife.”

“That is true,” Lito agreed as he stared into the middle distance. His ponderous mood broke as soon as Hernando turned away, and Hernando found his pant leg caught in Lito’s grasp. “I am a fork who has been doing the job of a knife all my life. And it was fine before! Before they all knew — that I am not a knife.” His shoulders shook and his watery eyes spilled over.

“Okay, That one was actually not a metaphor,” Hernando said, hurrying to crouch down and squeeze in next to his sobbing boyfriend. “But I suppose it does work.”

Lito flopped over onto his side.

Hernando rubbed his leg soothingly. “Your life is not out of control. You will make it through this.  _ We _ will make it through this.”

Lito sniffled and bit a piece of his jam and bread off. “I know. I know he’s right. I just—”

“Who’s right?”

Lito’s eyes darted to meet his. “You are.”

He sighed. “Would you like to be alone?”

His boyfriend thought it over as his eyes drifted back to where he’d been looking. “I think I need to be right now. I’m sorry.”

“That’s alright. I’ll be in the next room with Dani if you change your mind.”

“Thank you, Hernando. I love you.”

He gave Lito’s leg a squeeze. “I love you.” Then he stood and dropped the dirty knife into the sink as he left.

Hernando would not change one thing about Lito, of course. But he hoped that as time went on, it might be easier for him to understand just what was going through his boyfriend’s mind.


End file.
